The Missing Dragon Ch. 02byLien_Geller©
The pale blue sky above the orc encampment signaled the imminent arrival of the hot, yellow sun about to rise up over the edge of the great eastern ocean . Gregory Hopkins awoke to feel the pleasant ache of sore muscle and tendon. The light discomfort was a reminder of the previous evening and the wonderful women he had shared it with. They were his first thought as he remembered the touch of their flesh, their hunger for his kiss and the music of their soft moans as he repeatedly poured his adoration into their quivering bodies. His eyes closed as he savoured those two feminine shapes laid on either side of him. Their heavy breaths spilled out long and slow across his bare chest whilst they remained within the company of their dreams.
To his left, he felt the soft peachy bottom of Janette Riley and gave the supple, snowy white flesh a gentle squeeze. She was young just like him, no more than eighteen years of age and definitely ripe for the plucking. He remembered the colour rise upon her smooth pale cheeks and the feel of her deep scarlet hair in his hand as he'd taken her. For all his life he had known her to be cruel and vicious until they had both spilled over into this strange new world where it seemed anything was possible. He'd found Janette there, he'd fought for her and he'd won. The display had, by the rules of their hosts, made her his property. Later, by her own will, she had given herself to him completely and they had both ridden the flames of passion until they were utterly spent.
They had not been alone.
Wrapped up in his right arm with her own arm resting across his chest and her leg draped across his body was an altogetherly different female. Unlike Janette who was soft and delicate to his touch, his other woman was firm and honed as if carved from the smoothest emerald and heated to perfection. Her name was Algra Strongblood and she was definitely unlike any woman he had ever known. Though he did not know her age he guessed she was somewhere in her early to mid twenties and it seemed that all those years had been spent shaping herself into the finest feminine form possible.
Every part of her was strong and lithe with long beautifully toned legs, a tight round bottom, a trim waist and gorgeous generously proportioned breasts that now squeezed against his body. The most striking feature of hers, as far as Gregory was concerned, was her skin which was a rich shade of green that that darkened upon the peaks of her breasts and over her lips. Her face was also something he was still getting used to, albeit whilst enjoying every glimpse he could get of her. She was a beautiful creature to behold with long jet black hair that spilled out in a feral mess across her head down to her shoulders. A smoothly curved distinctly feminine jaw line lifted into well defined cheeks flanking her lips. Lips that were shaped around the distinct form of her tusks at either corner of her mouth which took the place of her lower canines and raised outward to rest over her upper lip. Both of the distinctly inhuman tusks curved upward and pointed to a long straight nose which flared out into a deep brow that framed a set of wonderfully emotive, dark-chocolate coloured eyes.
He felt her head resting upon his chest where she had shifted in the night to listen to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. Without opening his eyes, he lifted his head and set a kiss in amidst her inky black hair. The sensation made her body hold him tighter for a moment and then relax again. He smiled and let his eyes open to look upward and found himself staring into a completely different face altogether.
The sudden appearance of a cloaked figure standing above him made him jump. Algra and Janette squirmed against him in their sleep, annoyed by the sudden movement. The cloaked figure leaned forward and an unfamiliar female face came into view above him. It was a human woman in her late twenties or possibly very early thirties with long silky smooth chestnut hair and pale green eyes. The corners of her bow shaped lips quivered a little in a nervous yet entirely disarming smile that made Gregory relax somewhat.
Well, he relaxed until he realised that although she wasn't an assassin, she was undoubtedly a very attractive woman who was looking at his naked body as he lay between two equally naked women. As awkward moments went, it pretty much blew out all the competition.
"H-hello master." Her voice whispered timidly. Thankfully her eyes seemed to be fixed upon his.
Unbeknownst to Gregory, keeping her eyes on his face was taking quite a good bit of effort from the woman. He'd been something of an outsider back on Earth and generally ignored by girls. This was mainly due to the fact that he continuously wore baggy sweats. If any woman who was so inclined had glimpsed just how firm and well toned his body was they would have probably made it their life's mission to bring the outsider to the inside as quickly as humanly possible.
She had peeked at his body, entwined between the two shapely females, before his eyes had opened. She'd seen sleek, powerful slopes of muscle defined along his frame and earned mostly from swimming. He was no body builder since he prized his own agility for his martial arts classes. This gave him a musculature that reminded her of a large predatory cat. It was all wrapped up in a light skin tone with just a little hint of olive to give him a slightly Greco-Roman hue that turned his body into the most appealing shade of bronze whenever it was overly exposed to sunlight.
Of course, she'd glimpsed what lay between his legs and found that he certainly wasn't lacking anything in that department. It was no trouble at all to believe that such a tool could draw forth the deliriously happy feminine screams that had risen from within the tent the previous evening.
Then she had come to regard his face and found him handsome if somewhat young. His youth was all the more notable as he slept, for he usually carried a contemplative look in his deep blue eyes that made him seem somewhat older and wiser than his actual eighteen years would imply. There was still a degree of boyishness about him but his face had all the makings of a thoroughly handsome man.
A well defined jaw was covered in a light layer of black stubble that outlined an appealing mouth. She'd seen him smile from his display the previous day when he'd bested her former master; a massive lumbering orc named Bolut. Gregory had a wicked smirk and a generous grin that made her want to laugh along with him. She'd heard the moans of Algra and Janette during the night and wondered what else those lips might be capable of.
He laid his head back and framed his features in amidst a mussed up mane of long black hair that fell to his shoulders. On Earth, the long hair had made him even more of an outsider but there it just made him seem wild like many of the orcs in the camp.
She'd been looking at his closed eyelids and trying to remember what his eyes looked like when they had flipped open and she found herself looking down into two dark pools of blue.
"Er...Hi?" Lowering his tone to match hers, he found his voice was a little hoarse with all the blissful bellowing he'd done the night before.
She'd called him 'master'. Since he'd arrived in this strange new world he'd almost gotten used to people calling him that. Orc society was a hierarchy based on challenges of combat. If two orcs disagreed or one orc thought he deserved something that another one owned then they would simply fight for it. The winner would thereafter become the master and the loser the slave. Orc slavery was much different to human ideas on such matters since practically every orc was in some way enslaved to another. This meant that ill treatment of a slave by a master was practically a ticket to get a severe beating by other orcs who didn't want their masters getting any ideas.
Shortly after entering the camp he'd found Janette and had challenged the orc merchant who had captured her. He'd won and therefore as well as taking Janette he now owned everything the merchant had, including the merchant himself. Gregory therefore concluded that this woman had probably been one of the merchant's human slaves and he now owned her too.
"The warchief calls for your presence, master. Bolut asked me to take you there if it is your will." She bowed her head submissively and then looked down to Gregory for his response.
"Who's Bolut?" Gregory began to wiggle his way out of the grip of his two lovers. It was not an easy task, especially since he didn't want to wake them and even in their slumber they didn't want to let him go.
"Bolut is the name of your slave, master. He is the one who you challenged yesterday." She seemed a little worried, as if she might have somehow gotten the wrong person.
"Right, ok. Um, could you turn around?" He finally managed to slip from Algra's grip and stand up.
"Yes master, of course," she obeyed.
"Thanks." He began to fish around for his pants. "So what does the warchief want?"
The warchief was the leader of the orc encampment. An enormous male even for one of his kin; he also happened to be Algra's uncle. He was definitely not someone that Gregory wanted to keep waiting. Finding his loose cargo pants, he frowned at the broken zipper and popped button. Algra had been very eager to play with what rested behind those particular hindrances and in her enthusiasm she'd ripped the front of his pants apart. Gregory improvised by wrapping his heavy hooded sweater around his waist as a makeshift belt. He tactfully covered the hole in their front with the folded arms of the garment. Once that was done he slipped on his t-shirt and turned back.
Algra and Janette had sleepily slipped into each other's arms in his absence and they certainly made a pleasant sight for tired eyes. Algra had possessively wrapped her leg around Janette's thigh and their arms had slid into an embrace. Their breasts squeezed together as their heads fell against each other's shoulders and they continued to snooze. The messenger was still turned away and Gregory tore his eyes away from the nude pair to look at the cloaked figure.
"I'm ready, let's go."
"Yes master." The lady turned and looked him over, she obviously found his dress sense interesting, if slightly perplexing. Humans that she knew tended to wear simple linen garments or medievally tailored clothing.
Gregory offered her a small smile and slipped out of the tent, holding the large entrance flap open for her to emerge beside him.
"Thank you, master," she politely remarked on his manners before leading the way for him toward the warchief's home. "Is it acceptable for me to give you a message from Bolut?"
"Hm? Oh. Yeah, 'course it is." Gregory was slightly distracted as he smothered a tired yawn.
"He wishes for an audience with you today. Yesterday he was very happy that you allowed him to keep his things but I think he wishes to know what you intend to do now."
Him and me both. Gregory silently thought to himself.
Suddenly remembering the cause of his trip from Earth to this new world, he reached into the pocket of his pants and felt the cold touch of the ring there. He didn't pull it from the pocket and he was careful not to let the thing slip onto his finger. The last time Janette had done that they had both been teleported from England along with her psychotic ex-boyfriend. He needed to get home but he knew something very important about magic rings and that was simply that he didn't know anything at all about magic rings. Sure, it had transported them here this time but that didn't mean putting it on again would take them back. Maybe they'd end up somewhere else, somewhere without oxygen or somewhere that was just an endless ocean. The thought wasn't exactly encouraging.
"What's he like? Bolut, I mean. Is he kind to you?" Gregory tried to keep his mind on the present rather than pondering his other troubles.
It was clear from her reaction that she certainly hadn't been expecting him to ask such a question. Her pale green eyes widened and she turned her head sharply to look upon him. It wasn't fear upon her face but rather a simple moment of shock followed by a note of confusion and then an answer.
"He is not kind. Kind is not the right word. I would say that he is good," she affirmed with a satisfied nod.
"What do you mean by that?"
She took a calculating breath, her apparently timid nature obviously conflicting with putting forward her own views.
"A kind person is gentle with others. Bolut is not gentle but nor is he cruel. He is a very good merchant. He has been challenged three times and lost much of his stock only to rebuild his business over once again. We work hard for him but he keeps us fed and sheltered. It is better to work for him than the life we knew as peasants. If we are sick he gets us medicine and lets us rest rather than work. He takes on more of us than he should because he knows we don't like to be separated from our families. Orcs don't usually keep human slaves because they don't want the burden of tearing them away from those they love. Bolut keeps us all together." She explained, obviously hoping she was getting her point across.
"I see. What do you do for him then?"
"We do many things in the camp. We take his wares around for others to buy, we accompany him as he travels and we craft things to trade. Bolut is very keen for us to learn things than can help his business. He's trained three blacksmiths and two tailors in the last three years. One of them moved back to the human kingdoms and set up a shop. Bolut still trades with him." She offered that same nervous yet pretty smile as she spoke.
"And what's your job?" Gregory turned to look at her as they walked amongst the tents of the camp.
"I sing, I dance, I know some stories. I play the flute well enough for a drunkard's ears."
"You're one of the women in the tents? You do what Janette did?" Gregory was suddenly notably interested.
When he'd first seen Janette after finding the orc camp she had been branded an accomplice to a bandit and as a partial punishment she was made to work in one of the 'entertainment' tents in Bolut's part of the camp. Gregory had stumbled onto her dancing in her underwear in what was obviously going to be quite an impressive strip tease until she'd turned around and seen him. Evidently a love of boobs was not limited to humans.
"Yes," She nodded and looked back upon him. Her gaze was somewhat sharper now. "I do many dances to entertain Bolut's customers. I danced for Bolut himself yesterday night. I am no whore."
"Oh, er, no I know you're not. Janette told me that the girls just dance and...um...take their clothes off. It's fine by me. As long as you're not doing anything you don't want to."
"No master, I am happy with my place. I have my own tent and I enjoy being able to bathe regularly." She stopped as they approached a series of much larger tents set around a large central pavilion. "This is the home of the warchief. Shall I await your return?"
"Thank you. I'll be able to find my way back. You can go get some more sleep if you like. You can also tell Bolut that I'll speak with him later this morning." Gregory offered a pleasant smile and turned to look for the warchief's tent.
"M-master?" The girl piped up. Her quiet, timid voice was a sweet murmur in the cool morning air.
Gregory turned back to look at her. His amiable expression was incredibly disarming.
"What is it?" he nudged.
"Well, the girls who do what I do in the camp were wondering if you were perhaps planning on joining us? We are very eager to show you the benefits of our profession and...well..." She lowered her gaze demurely and then blinked shyly up at him.
There was a moments' pause as Gregory gave her a very long, level stare before his easy-going smile broke into a large grin.
"You're good," he applauded her.
"Master? I don't understand. I..." As she spoke she first appeared cutely baffled, her eyelashes fluttering prettily and her hand lifting to touch her fingertips against her lips.
She saw in his eyes that the game was over and her all-too-innocent act fell to the wayside. That beautiful innocent expression turned mischievously playful. Her downcast gaze lifted to fix squarely upon his and a very naughty gleam filled those smouldering green pools. Those lips stopped quivering and her hand lowered from her mouth as her smile turned downright wicked. Her hands slid down over her body, outlining the shape of her beautiful slender figure against the cloth of her cloak.
"I'm impressed. Most men don't have a problem playing into my 'Oh you shouldn't worry about itty bitty little me' act. They like women to be meek and mild. What gave me away?" She lifted a dark brow at him and stepped forward, her beautifully carved features taking on an altogether more deviant expression.
"No woman is that meek and mild, although I've seen better acts than yours." Gregory watched her step toward him and didn't give any ground.
"Didn't you want to take me home and teach me all the things every bad girl needs to know? That's what usually makes the act work. Every man loves a submissive little love slave don't they?" Her hand lifted to place her palm on his chest and slowly stroke along the firm body beneath his t-shirt.
"I kind of wanted to take you home and watch you eat a cake. You were awfully cute." He chuckled softly, never moving his eyes from hers even as she felt his heart beating faster beneath her fingers.
"Am I not still cute? Master." The final word had a hint of playful mockery about it. Her lips lifted to rest mere inches from his and he felt the light wave of heated breath pass over his mouth as she spoke with a husky whisper.
"Now you kind of look like you want to eat me." He savoured the sweet perfumed scent of her as she dominated his senses.
"I don't bite. I promise." Her eyes were alight with interest as she watched his gaze darken as if she was looking into the deepest depths of the oldest oceans.
"I do." He playfully snapped is jaws to illustrate his point.
The experienced courtesan had a momentary and genuine expression of delight as a shiver ran through her at his words.
"Many of us were awake last night. We heard you make Algra Strongblood and the red haired girl scream for you. We heard your name again and again. We want to meet you. We want you to make us scream too." She slid her hand up along his chest, feeling the hard heat of his body as she came to grip his shoulder. Her other hand moved to unclasp the neck of her cloak leaving it to spill open and reveal her very naked body beneath.
Only two days before, if Gregory had been in this situation he thought he might have vaguely resembled a very happy pile of human soup by now. It was amazing just how much spending a night with a beautiful orc and the centre of his teenage erotic fantasies had improved his confidence.
"What's your name?" He asked of her as he lifted his hand to stroke along the inside of her bare thigh.
"Talina." His soft feather-like touch made her breath catch and her heart race.
"Well Talina, I already have two truly amazing women to keep screaming for me." He smirked as his fingers caressed their way upward to lightly tease the soft lips of her sex where he found her already saturated and quivering. "But you do have a very beautiful voice and I like the way your eyes shine when you're thinking naughty thoughts."
The woman's grip upon his shoulder tightened as her eyes closed and her body shivered against him. Their lips accidentally brushed together and sent a pleasant tingle throughout each of them. Between her legs she felt his fingers tracing between the swollen lips of her pussy and delicately parting those soft petals to slide inside her wet fleshy folds.